


The Weakest Link

by Lyrae_Immortalis



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, Emotional Sex, Hand Jobs, Kink Negotiation, M/M, collaring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 07:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12766164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrae_Immortalis/pseuds/Lyrae_Immortalis
Summary: When Oswald agreed to collar him, this isn't what Ed had in mind.





	The Weakest Link

**Author's Note:**

> You: two fics posted in one day...who are you?  
> Me: shush, I had to write this. Eddie would look great in a collar, okay
> 
> My notes are obviously becoming shitposts, so enjoy that...or better yet, enjoy what you came here for :P
> 
> Happy reading! Prepare yourself for some soft dom stuff.

When Oswald agreed to collar him, this isn't what Ed had in mind. 

The desire was not a foreign one. Ed broached the topic _many_ times—wanting nothing more than to be marked as Oswald's—and although it was met with intrigue, the idea subsequently became a memory. Naturally, Oswald chose to surprise him when he least expected it.

Ed's mental image was of something rigid and weighted, thick-banded, but the whisper-like chain Oswald secures around his neck is anything but. Staring at the ceiling, Ed is too petrified to move. One careless action could see the collar tear into pieces, links snapped.

“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it?” Oswald says, half-amused, when Ed mentions this. He fingers the chain, nails scratching lightly, and Ed holds his breath. “This isn’t what’s _keeping_ you here.”

Fisting the sheets, tears prickle in Ed's eyes. It isn’t like Oswald to play such a cruel game, one Ed cannot define the rules for. 

“ _Please_ ,” Ed whimpers, unaware of what he is begging for, too afraid and desperate to piece it together. He lies pliant beneath Oswald, waiting for the touch of his hand, or the caress of his lips. Waiting for an explanation his mind cannot form, or for the collar to be removed.

The expression that passes over Oswald’s face is glum but understanding. He settles down on Ed’s waist and shakes his head. “No, I'm sorry Ed. It is important you realize that although you are clever, and although you are strong, I cannot shoulder you the burden of responsibility for something so fragile and delicate.”

Ed grits his teeth together. He wants to rip the chain off out of pure spite and be done with the ridiculous notion. _Responsibility_ … _accountability_. “So that is what you wish for me? Failure.”

“That's not what I'm saying.” He sounds frustrated and Ed’s almost glad. The tenderness is drowning him. “I have no choice, Edward. I need to be able to trust you, with _you_.”

The mind has the deadly ability to alter perception. Ed knows the chain around his throat is but a whisper, and that there is no _logical_ reason it should suddenly feel so constricting, but his head is dizzy, and his breath grows shallow, as the weight bears down on him. Eyes fluttering closed, Ed swallows thickly and tilts his head back. 

" _Oswald_ ," he whines.

“Do you understand yet?” Oswald asks, voice firm. He trails his hand up and down Ed's bare chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Ed squirms and rubs his ankles together, seeking friction on parts Oswald has neglected. “Like the collar, you are beautiful, but you are also _fragile_. The events of the past week—” Ed cracks his eyes open in time to see Oswald grimace and shake his head “—I have to trust you to take care of yourself, for that is not something I can always do.” 

“Are you—are you insinuating that I am not strong?” 

The chain is tugged, and Ed gasps, face held inches away from Oswald’s own. “Fragile things can be strong, too.”

“Y-you’ve made your point. I—I understand, ” Ed capitulates, barely audible. _A chain is only as strong as it’s weakest link, and we are not weak._ “I’ll endeavour to be more careful in the future.”

“That is all I ask.” He sounds relieved, but Ed has not found such is freedom yet. He is trapped somewhere between staggeringly breathless and dizzyingly charged. Ed craves release, craves the multilayered stimulation Oswald provides, craves the strong hands which have memorised every inch of his skin, but most of all he craves Oswald.

Encircling Oswald's wrist, the tears which formed earlier spill down Ed's cheeks, and streak his neck.

"Kiss me," he pleads, hand tightening.

Oswald smiles. "Gladly."

Releasing the chain, Oswald brings his hand down to cup Ed's jaw, stroking the tender skin just behind his earlobe. Leaning into the touch, Ed licks his lips expectantly, lost in the adoration in Oswald's eyes, before his mind is wiped blank with the brush of Oswald's lips.

Ed shudders and clutches Oswald's shoulders, holding on tightly, even as he is encouraged to roll onto his side. There is no rush to their movements, Oswald kisses him soothingly, languidly, settling all the concerns which brewed in the back of Ed's mind. 

Oswald knows him too well: the gentle firmness, the collar, and the reasoning behind it. An important lesson.

Ed cries out in elation, head thrown back, as Oswald's deft fingers wrap around him. A few simple strokes are all it takes for Ed to find his release, too high-strung to maintain any form of self-control. Oswald's praises are whispered between them, soft caresses which stroke Ed's ears, encouraging him, guiding him, until his hips stutter and still, and Ed spills himself. 

He clings to Oswald, burying his face in his chest, babbling incoherently, as he is washed away into bliss, desiring nothing more but the strong arms of the man he loves, wrapped around him, keeping him safe. 

**Author's Note:**

> Oswald is the softest dom and I love him. He understands Ed so well, knows how to fulfil his needs/wants, and how to make him listen to reasoning.
> 
> Thank you for reading!! I might write stuff similar to this in the future if people love it.


End file.
